


Aquamarine Skies

by blue_noize



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Assassination attempts, Galran!Keith, Getting Lost, Kidnapping, Laith, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rituals, Slow Burn, Soulmates, altean!lance, klance, princes!au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:33:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23729119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_noize/pseuds/blue_noize
Summary: Lance is a prince, not that he wants to be.  All this nonsense with betrothals and assassinations wasn't something he ever wanted or needed to have happen.  And NOW he's stuck on a random planet with a stuck-up, annoying, mullet-haired Galran prince that can't take a joke! What's next? One of them gets kidnapped and brainwashed?  That would just be icing on the cake!
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a while ago. It's not that good. But it's something and it's the first thing I've wanted to post in a long, long time. So I hope you enjoy it. Chapters will be slow.

_ I'm bored. _

The prince tapped his foot impatiently against the shining floor of the dining room, his long cape eating up the sound that would have normally been emitted. With a glove covered hand, the prince swiped his bangs out of his face, and the fabric snagged lightly on his tiara. Oh, that was just  _ great _ . Now it was crooked. The prince let out an annoyed breath.

_ I'm so bored... _

Taking his eyes from the display before him, the table laden with delicacies from all over the galaxy, the prince glared out the window and the purple sunset. There was a meeting going on around him, but really, the prince could care less. It wasn't  _ his _ responsibility, after all. He had no reason to be at a war meeting, but here he was, picking up some kind of delicate fork. Lightly clanking it against his thrice emptied glass of some kind of fruity beverage, the prince tried his damnedest to just ignore the argument that had flared up between a member of his family and a member of the Galran Royal Line.

"Lance, could you please cease with the racket?"

Blinking lazy eyes, the prince looked up at his sister, the Princess Allura, who was glaring at him something fierce.

"I'm sorry," Lance muttered, batting his eyelashes at his elder sister. "Was I being obnoxious?"

"Yes!" the princess hissed, kicking out her foot to try and catch her younger brother's shin.

She missed. Of course. Instead, her slippered toes smacked into the leg of the person  _ next _ to Lance, who yelped and glared at the woman.

"Oh, pardon me!" Allura sang, plastering a fake smile on her face. "I was aiming for him!"

"Lance, Allura, that is quite enough."

The siblings jumped slightly as their father, King Alfor beratted them.

"This is a very important gathering," the king continued, leveling his children with a disappointed grimace. "And while it does not inherently concern the younger generation as of yet, in just a few years, an alliance will need to be struck between our kingdom and another, and Allura, as you are the  _ eldest _ -" Pausing, the man pressed a finger to his temple, as if to fight off a headache. "-You will be the one to fulfill that duty; so do not shirk it now. Pay... _ attention. _ "

Allura pursed her lips and glared at Lance, who was sticking his tongue out at his sister, but she sighed and muttered, "Yes, Father. I apologize for my outburst."

"I accept," Alfor said, nodding his head in acknowledgement. But then it was the prince's turn to get the brunt of their father's gaze. "Lance--"

Rolling cerulean eyes, the prince leaned back in his chair. Waving his hand in dismissal, Lance uncrossed and crossed his legs under the table, the fabric of his leggings bunching at the knees. "I know, I know. Pay attention, blah blah, don't interrupt, yada yada. I get it, Father, but I just don't see why  _ I'm _ here." Letting out a discontented sound, Lance put a hand to his cheek, his pointer finger sliding over one of his scales lightly. "I'm already  _ betrothed _ , remember?"

_ Ugh, I hate that word... _ Betrothed...indeed he was. Shackled to some stranger that he'd never even  _ seen _ , let alone  _ met _ .

"Liandrian, that is  _ quite _ enough of that." Lance flinched at his Astral name being spoken by his mother, of all people. She was normally more understanding of Lance's less than enthusiastic approach to the whole  _ betrothal _ thing, but the prince supposed that maybe he took it a step too far.

Queen Melenor looked  _ livid _ . Her pretty eyebrows were pinched together as she stared down her son. Hunching his shoulders up by his ears, Lance stared down at the slick surface of the dining table. All conversation around the area had died down as soon as the Altean Royal Family started to verbally attack each other, and the silence around them was deafening to the young prince.

"I'm sorry, Mother," Lance whispered, focusing on a weird speck so as to not let himself cry. He felt closer to Melenor than Alfor, and he never liked being scolded, especially by her. "I was out of turn; I will reflect on my actions."

The queen nodded, tucking a lock of lilac hair behind one long ear. "See to it that you do. We invited you to this meeting because you will be taking over for your father in several circumstances when you come of age. We did it  _ for you _ , not to inconvenience you."

"Yes, Mother."

After another beat of silence, King Alfor cleared his throat and called, "As I was saying, the outer sectors have as of la--"

Lance stopped listening again. He was far too focused on that tiny speck. What could it be? The remnants of a meal? A chipped piece of dining ware, perhaps? Maybe it was a grain of that spice called  _ ground pepper _ that someone had brought from a tiny planet at the edge of the galaxy called  _ Earth _ . Huh, Earth. Lance had seen pictures of it, memory snippets from people who had been there. It was a planet rather similar to Altea and Arus.

_ Good, that seemed to work. _ The brunet prince unbunched his shoulders and leaned back into his chair. Focusing on some random fact had seemed to will the tears away, and Lance was grateful that he was more in control of his emotions than he had been a few years ago. When he was younger, he probably would have burst into tears on the spot. Not anymore. No, he'd learned to be stronger than that.

"Now," King Alfor suddenly blurted, his word directly aimed at Lance to the point that it bounced around the shell of one long ear before it sunk into his eardrum. "Lance, we have one thing to discuss with you before we end this meeting. I meant to bring it up earlier, but...well..." The king let his words trail off and Lance looked off to the side with guilt. "Regardless, we would like to discuss some of the finer points of your betrothal."

Oh,  _ gods _ that word again. Did they really  _ have _ to?  _ I don't want to talk about some ugly Galran royal that's just gonna be mean and nasty and too serious. I don't wanna marry someone like that! _ The prince tried not to groan. Picking at the fabric of his leggings, which were still bunched up under his knees uncomfortably, Lance nodded. "Fine..." he muttered, although he felt anything  _ but _ fine.

Clearing his throat, King Alfor held out a hand to the Galran General that was sitting opposite him. "General Kolivan, would you like to explain the situation?"

Lance flicked his aqua gaze up towards the General in question. Yep, just like the prince thought; too serious, mean looking. Far too severe. The General sat straighter in his chair and squared his shoulders before turning his narrowed gaze towards the young prince. "You are betrothed to the Prince Yorak, the youngest son of our Commander, Emperor Zarkon."

_ Ugh, that's even worse than _ my  _ Astral name, _ Lance mused even as the General kept talking.  _ What kind of name is Yorak? And why is it only the _ sons  _ that get saddled with these archaic labels? It's stupid, and far too old sounding. _

Under the table, Allura flicked her brother's knee, bringing him back to the topic that was being discussed. His eyes must have started to glaze over. But  _ hey _ , it wasn't  _ his _ fault that the Galran General had a voice deep enough to make Lance want to just fall asleep? He had a  _ thing _ for deep voices, okay?

Once more, Allura flicked the prince's leg, and this time Lance focused back on the explanation that the Galran was giving.

"So, because of that little...unforeseen complication, Prince Yorak's outworld training is being cut short, and since that was the only thing holding off the marriage between the Altean Prince and our young prince, Zarkon believes that it would be best to marry them as soon as possible."

There was silence around the table, and Lance felt his jaw drop. " _ What!? _ " the prince squeaked, leaning forward in his chair. "You can't be  _ serious _ !?"

Ignoring his son's outburst, the king nodded slowly, putting a finger to his chin and stroking at his goatee in thought. "Hmm, yes, I see how that could have been a solution your Emperor came up with. I've known Zarkon for a great many years, and ever the practical ruler is he." Lance stared at his father with wide, terrified eyes.  _ Father...what are you doing? _ "How soon was he thinking?"

"Father!"

"Quiet, Lance," Alfor said, holding up a hand to silence his son, which only made Lance slide closer to the edge of his seat. He was beginning to shake with barely contained fury. No. No! They couldn't do this! He was only eighteen! He hadn't even taken his Alchemist's exam yet! He couldn't just... _ marry _ a stranger!

Kolivan's purple gaze flicked between prince and king for several moments. After clearing his throat, the General answered, "Within two pheobs, at the most. Prince Yorak should be returning to Central Command within a movement, and we have already accounted for both Altean and Galran marriage rituals."

"You can't be serious! Father!"

"Liandrian!"

"But Mother--!"

Ignoring his son outright except for a hand held up in warning, which was very uncharacteristic of the king, Alfor nodded once more before sending a smile in Kolivan's direction. "I suppose we can work with that. Inform the Emperor of our decision and we will agree on a marriage location that would benefit both kingdoms."

"Vrepit Sa," the General said, his voice low. Alfor nodded in agreement.

His patience and ability to keep his anger contained finally running out, Lance slammed his palms onto the table, rising to his feet. "This isn't fair!" he insisted, his scales shining as he let his anger run free. "You didn't even listen to what  _ I wanted _ ! What are we, some kind of undeveloped planet that cannot even change our rules when the times change?"

Queen Melenor sighed, and King Alfor laced his fingers together before his chin. "This path has been chosen for you since you were born, Lance. The quintessence told us that this is what we must do, so we will adhere to its wishes," Lance's father murmured.

Arms shaking with fury and disappointment in his parents' decision, Lance shook his head. "No," he said, his voice initially low in his throat. "No! I won't accept this!"

"You don't have a choice, Liandrian," Melenor whispered, trying to send a loving look up at her son, but Lance was far too upset to care.

Without another word, Lance turned from the table, his cloak whipped out behind him. He wasn't going to put up with this! He wasn't going to marry some total stranger! How many times did he have to say that?  _ This is too damn much. I won't do it! _

The door slid shut behind Lance's receding back, the meeting table silent in the wake of the prince's fury.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance confides in his mentor, hoping that SOMEONE will be on his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, another part I wrote a while ago. I know I'll take a while to get the third chapter out, but I'll get there.

The crystal swung wildly between Lance's palms, incessant in its turning. Sweat beaded on the prince's brow, and his eyes were beginning to burn. A crackle of energy flew through the room, one spearhead sticking into the wall behind the young prince's form.

"Lance, you need to focus!"

Looking up from his practice, Lance spied the disappointed look in his mentor's eyes. "I  _ am _ , Esper," he insisted, dropping his hands to his sides, which in turn caused the crystal to clank back against the table. He  _ had _ been focusing, but no matter how serious he was about this practice, the anger just kept rearing its head like some kind of immortal snake. If he remembered correctly, the human creature "The Hydra" had been similar to that.

"If you were focusing, you would not have driven a hole through my wall with your quintessence."

Glancing over his shoulder, Lance blinked at the fist sized, crackling hole that was indeed in the wall behind him. The prince let a grimace distort his features, and his mentor sighed. The woman pushed down her hood, letting loose a cascade of ebony curls that fell over his shoulder to pool on top of her crossed arms. Lance clenched his fists tightly, leaving small crescent shapes in the flesh of his palm.

Jeez, seeing Esper disappointed in him was almost worse than when it was his mother looking at him like that. She'd been his mentor since he was a small child; Esper had taught him everything he knew about being an Alchemist, and she was probably the only reason he was serious about even  _ taking _ the exam. Alfor had told the prince that he didn't need to take it, that he was a royal and was therefore already accepted as an Alchemist.

_ But that's not what I want...I want to earn it with my own abilities. _

"Lance?" Esper called, her voice soft as she stood before the angered prince. "What's on your mind?"

Jumping lightly at the question, Lance felt heat rise in his cheeks. Was he  _ really _ that easy to read? Well, probably. Esper was the best at detecting minute changes in a person's quintessence based on their mood, so really...it made sense. 

"N-nothing...really."

"Lance," Esper chided, unfolding her arms and letting the rest of her hair slip to rest against her waist. The curls looked like obsidian, and Lance was jealous. His hair was so...boring. Just the plain old white from the royal line. Couldn't he have been born with something more interesting? Like ebony...or  _ brown _ even! Brown was so rare, like Coran's flaming red. White was just...boring. "Lance, really, your quintessence is warping into strange patterns. What's upsetting you, child?"

Lance sighed. There was no use hiding it. It wasn't as if Esper didn't already know.

"I don't  _ want _ to get married..." Lance muttered, keeping his eyes trained on a discolored tile on the floor. He'd spilled a tonic there a few years ago, and the color hadn't seemed to fade yet. "I'm...I'm not  _ ready _ for that!"

Esper nodded, several curls bouncing around her green scales. "You're talking about your betrothal with Prince Yorak, correct?"

Throwing up his arms, the soft knit fabric of his sweater slipping back over his hands from where it had been rolled up by his elbows. "Yes! What  _ else _ would I be talking about?" the prince grumbled, practically throwing his body into the chair at the end of the work table.

"Alright, there is no need to get snippy with me, Lance," Esper softly said, rolling her pretty lavender eyes. Strolling over to where Lance now sat, well,  _ pooled _ was a more apt description, the Alchemist made her way behind the chair to slip delicate fingers through locks of ivory. "Why don't you tell me what happened at the dinner? I heard you stormed out."

Lance let a sigh slip through his nose at the sensation of Esper's nails scratching lightly at his scalp. She once told the prince that he kept all of his stress and discomfort in his head, and maybe he did, but almost immediately he began to feel less angered.

"I basically got downgraded into a pawn so that the alliance between Zarkon and my Father will continue to last," Lance said, vaguely. Reaching up, the prince pulled his tiara from his forehead, turning the golden trinket between his fingers. "I have to get married in like, two pheobs, and I have  _ no _ say in the matter! I don't  _ want _ to marry some gross, mean warrior that's all scarred up and too serious for his own good. I want someone I can laugh with! And all the Galran's are serious, stoic beasts that can't do a thing for a fun!"

"Now, Lance, that's rather prejudiced of you. Don't you think you're taking this all a little too far?"

"Too far?" Lance repeated. "Too  _ far _ !?" Turning in the chair, all but ripping his hair from Esper's fingers, Lance glared up at his mentor. "No one even  _ asked _ what I wanted, or what I thought of the matter!" the prince exclaimed. Esper held her hands up as if to ward off his anger. With aqua eyes narrowed, the young prince continued. "I'm the  _ heir _ and yet no one, not  _ one single person _ thought to ask what I was okay with. They're forcing me into an arranged marriage with someone I HAVEN'T EVEN MET YET!"

It all came down to that.  _ That _ was the thing Lance was most upset about. He hadn't even  _ met _ this Prince Yorak. How was he to know if he would even be able to stand next to the Galran prince?

"You have to remember, my prince," Esper said, her voice quiet but hardened by the meaning behind her words. "You were  _ chosen _ for this the moment you were born. We cannot go against what the quintessence has told us. It is  _ our _ way, and you are going to have to get used to that."

Feeling his fury peter out as the Alchemist talked, her words reasonable, Lance sighed. "I know that, but that doesn't mean I have to like it."

"You're right, you don't have to like it. But..." Pausing, Esper walked around the chair once more, her robes swishing against the floor to cover up that one discolored tile. "You still have to accept this as your duty as the Prince Heir of Altea." It was then that the woman's face melted into a small smile. "Besides, you get to meet the prince next movement, right? He'll be here, in the castle, and you'll be able to spend two whole pheobs getting to know him. Who knows, he might not be as bad as you think."

Lance was silent for a moment, his tiara warm in his fingers.  _ God, I hate it when she's right. _

"Yeah...okay," the prince mumbled, raising his hands to slip the tiara back onto his forehead. "I guess I can do that."

"Good!" the Alchemist sang, her movements purposeful as she pulled her hood back on, hiding her river of ebony curls beneath her robes once more. "Now, let's get back to that crystal, shall we?"


End file.
